Dear Captain
by Alexandria Richards
Summary: While attending Hell-ton, Alex kept a collection of notes, letters, and other such documents in a folder.
1. Dear Captain

**Hey, so I published this on my other account that I don't use anymore, and I loved this story so I was like, "Hey, let's continue it!"**

 **I apologize for nothing.**

* * *

Dear Captain,

This is Alexandria. I wanted to tell you my story.

I am the youngest and only girl in a family of 9. None of my brothers went to Welton, and the only reason why I'm here is because I saved money since I was 12 years old. I wanted to go to a good school, but I probably wouldn't have saved money at all if I had known how terrible the other teachers are.

Why do I stay?

Because of you.

I love your class, and I think that you are great teacher, and an inspiring person. I hope that the rest of the year will be just as interesting as these first few weeks have been!

Sincerely,

Alexandria Richards, Dead poet

* * *

Dear Miss Alex,

I am thankful that you have taken the time to write to me. I also thank you for your complements. Most of the teachers here find my lessons to be unorthodox, but you already know that. I hope you continue to attend Welton, but it is understandable if you choose to leave.

Sincerely,

J. Keating


	2. Neil

8/21

How do you tell a boy that you like him?

Is it even harder if he's your best friend?

I answer yes to the second question. As for the first... no idea. I guess that's why I asked.

Neil Perry is the cutest, funniest, happiest, and most outgoing person I've ever met. Actually, Todd might be his only competition when it comes to "cutest."

My problem is that, odds are, someone as happy and carefree as Neil simply _must_ have a girlfriend. Or at least another girl friend. That he thinks about.

Anyways, I have no clue as to how I'm supposed to find out whether Neil has a girlfriend or not. Ha. That would make a _fantastic_ lunchtime chat. "Hey Neil! Do you have a girlfriend? Oh, you do? Bummer, I really like you. Oh well."

...I am trapped.


	3. He Walks in Shadows

8/30

I love Mr. Keating's class. I really do.

What I do NOT love is having to write a poem. AND RECITING IT IN FRONT OF THE CLASS. Honestly, it probably wouldn't be that bad. Except for the fact that I'm a complete coward and can't write worth two cents. Actually, not even worth one cent. I mean, I probably could, but never in ten thousand years would I recite my better poems in class. Did I mention I was a coward?

... okay.

Fine.

I'll write something half decent.

HE WALKS IN SHADOWS

He walks in shadows between the worlds

That line that marks night from day

He teeters on the edge of a cliff

Never afraid to look down

His eyes are the deepest pools

Reflecting on the wonders of the stars

Those stars that remain aloof

And shining above anyone's grasp 

But he 

Oh, he could reach them.

He could reach them and bring them down to earth

And show the Normal people what they really are.

Just hot air and some shine. 

Nothing with a heart.

He could block out that light

That blinding light

And walk in the darkness

That place that most Normal people shy away from

Because the world is suddenly unsure

And the path is gone

But that darkness is where he thrives. 

It's not so crowded in the dark

The dark he created for himself

And the only residents 

Are those who have the courage to let go

And ignore the blinding light of day


	4. Audition

9/2

So, the poem I read wasn't that bad, I guess. I really didn't expect everyone to like it as much as they did.

After class, a few kids came up and asked who the poem was about.

No way in Hell-ton I was going to tell them who it was _really_ about, so I just said I wrote it about a book character named Tyler Wicks.* Of course, now they think I'm some sappy book nerd. Oh well. I'd rather be seen as caring too much than not at all.

Anyways, for whatever weird reason, _literally everyone_ I showed my poem to was completely amazed at how well-written my poem was. Mr. Keating even suggested that I start writing my own songs. (yes I like music, but that's a story for another day.) I mean... Yeah, I could write stuff, but I honestly don't think I'm good enough to make a profit off of it.

Speaking of sappy book nerd, THERE'S AN OPEN AUDITION FOR A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. Don't get me wrong, I hate Shakespeare plays, but for whatever reason, I don't mind this one. And NO, I'm not auditioning JUST BECAUSE Neil is auditioning, too... That's just a very big part of why.

Im not sorry.

I should probably go to sleep. It's like... Only 9:00. Whatever. Screw it. I'm still going to bed.

Night.

* * *

*Tyler Wicks does not exist in any book that I'm aware of. Do not go looking for him.


	5. Beautiful

9/12

So, there's this thing that's been bothering me. I may be just imagining it, but Neil just seems... Off. Not all the time, but enough that I've begun to notice it. He started off sounding ecstatic about the "Midsummers" audition (of course he landed the role of Puck), but now whenever anyone mentions it, his eyes... They turn dark and (what's a good word?) morose.

Gah, I hate it! I can't very well say anything about it becuase, try as I might, I've never been able to become close to Neil. Yeah, we talk, but it's not like he'd ever invite me over for a party. And I know it's not because he's a bad guy (far from), but because we simply just aren't good enough friends.

Oh my god, WHY DO I HAVE TO LIKE PEOPLE?! It's not like I try to. I just kind of end up noticing _something_ about them that gets me interested, and then I start caring, and then I end up hating myself because I can't end up saving everyone in the world, as much

as I _very much want to._

Sometimes, I feel so... So powerless to make any change.

At all.

* * *

9/20

Assignment time.

Mr. Keating asked all of us to pick something mundane and describe it in a way that makes it beautiful, or worthy of notice.

Ummmmmm... Okay. Mundane, mundane, mundane...

Whats something mundane?... What's in a _name?_ That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

I think.

But anyone can love a rose.

That's easy.

But can anyone love a leaf?

A leaf, a green jewel that grows in the sky. No, a jewel that _thrives_ in the sky like a bird. A leaf is what gives the rose life. It soaks up the golden rays of the afternoon sun, and in time becomes golden itself, or red, or orange, many more colors, surely, than a rose would be.


	6. Hell

9/22

I may never show my face in class again.

Nope.

Also, remind me to NEVER keep my diary notes in the same notebook as my school assignments.

I may or may not have written a short love poem that was MOST CERTAINLY NOT about Neil. I had to turn in my poem about mundane beauty, and I accidentally handed in the poem about Neil with it.

Mr. Keating asked if any of us wanted our poems read aloud, and the kid who's poem was under mine raised his hand.

Guess what?

He read the poem about Neil.

I AM GOING TO DIE AND GO TO HELL.

Luckily for me, Neil wasn't in class. Doesn't really matter, though. He's gonna hear ALL ABOUT IT from Cameron. And if not him, Meeks. Neither of those boys can keep their mouths shut. With their help, I'll be the laughing stock of the entire school by Christmas.

Is it too late to move to Canada?


End file.
